It amazes me just how complacent some folks are, living as they do in the world of illusion they have made for themselves. Unable to contemplate anything outside of their comfort zone, they simply choose to believe that it doesn't exist.
These thoughts were brought to my mind recently when I wrote a piece about dowsing, water divining - whatever one chooses to call it. It is an art, impossible to prove with regular science and yet true.
So the ones who know it works, naturally enough, believe in it because they use it and see it in action, while the ones who have never experienced it or have closed their minds to it, scoff at the very nature of its existence.
Small minds have never contributed much to our collective experience apart from disdain and contempt. Small minds can only ever accept what they find in their restricted world.
This is why I have no time for those who declare themselves atheists. An atheist is not only one who does not believe in a god but is one who feels it necessary to announce their disbelief to the world with a misplaced and smug confidence and then to give their self satisfaction a label.
Now I don't claim to know the answers to life's big questions (unlike those proselytising religions which inhabit their own version of parochialism) but I can say with certainty that I do believe in a higher authority and in someone or something that has painted the bigger picture in which I find myself. For this is no ordinary picture, this life. From dreams and 'psychic' connections to age old legends of fairies and ghosts, this odd little planet which is apparently hurtling through unending space and time, is surely beyond our comprehension and must be a figment of some incredible imagination. Our very existence is dreamlike in its complexity, it's a bizarre manifestation of a mega intelligence.
Or something like that....
For an atheist to state categorically that there is no higher authority merely shows their lack of both imagination and wonder.
And it is wonder that lights up our lives, the wonder of discovery. The feeling you get at the top of a mountain, that unbridled freedom; or seeing a rainbow just at that moment when you are needing reassurance. Or the silent but intense connection when you find yourself suddenly staring into the eyes of a wild animal or a kindred spirit.
The sheer beauty of a rose. The unimaginable, yet true, miracle of a butterfly. The structure of a feather or the skeleton of a dying leaf.
And all this on just one planet.
The desperate tragedy of the story is that we are bound to destroy this planet. The hope is that there will be other planets without mankind. The fear is that there might not. The sadness is that we had the chance to be part of the beautiful mystery and chose instead to destroy it.
So, for those of us who still seek to discover wonder in a world that is dying through the cynicism of non believers, I can tell you that the wonder is there, in quiet places, in our hearts and minds, in dreams and in silence.
But my worry is that soon it will be gone. And when that time comes, my wish is that I will be gone too. To where? Who knows.